Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the apartment, a familiar comfort. Except, today, the smell felt threatening. It was an indicator of something… something that wasn’t right.

James found Amelia in the kitchen, humming as she kneaded dough. The radio was on, playing a foreign station. He recognized the language. His language.

“What’s this?” he asked, gesturing towards the radio.

Amelia turned, startled. “Oh, just some music.”

He watched her, his gaze sharp and unyielding, as she offered him a piece of bread. He took a bite, forcing himself to appear casual. He felt a sudden, inexplicable revulsion, as though the bread itself was tainted, infused with some secret. He thought of all the times they’d shared this kitchen, and a feeling of utter unfamiliarity washed over him.

He felt a need to run, to escape. But from what? He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.